White Prayer

In this, the third week enduring a polar vortex, I retreat from winter’s cruel bitter cold, which is a turn towards home, for body and spirit. I joyfully follow the open way to the inner mysteries that warm and sweeten one’s soul. A mind’s haunting howl is hushed when its wrapped in winter’s white shawl.

The one white that covers the landscape, inside and out, softens the pointy places that poke holes in my peace. Beneath the layers and layers of heavy cold and clothes, I search for something to raise my heart above the worries of this world. I feel the lightness of wonder watching the snowflakes sift and drift through the sky’s blue like dreams in a deep sound sleep.

I am blanketed in the warmth of winter’s prayer, to trust Creator will give me strength and endurance to face everything that hurts, everything that makes me turn away, everything that tries to blur the beauty of winter, even a polar vortex.

Between Skins

Garter Snake left something behind,

a lacy sleeve

of his diamond design.

Soft and fragile,

thin as a whisper.

He breached restriction,

peeled it away.

hooked by the log

inside out and in one piece

the tissue print laid.

Trusting each twist, every turn

Surrendered to the struggle.

I wonder how that feels

to wholly leave behind

all that will not grow with you.

Wet flesh of newborn knowledge

understanding’s tender spiral.

Shedding is both

quiet and beautiful,

skin and tears alike.

Garter Snake and I

both have reached this place

where we can be

stretched no further—

stretched no further.

I looked for him

among dead leaves

and smooth grass.

Perhaps he sought refuge

under dark undergrowth.

Restless as the forces of creativity

Garter Snake can’t be held still

or tight for long.

When stirred hidden passion glows

like embers buried in ash.

In this place—between skins

all of me

wiggled free

by creative energy.

All of me free.

Here grow the light,

live in the sunfields

when you can be stretched no further

leave something behind— leave something behind.

Love Is Our Truth

At a recent Native American gathering, a mouse tried to join the event. Quick thinking and actions by the person seated by he door prevented its entry. The incident brought to their mind a Mouse Spirit message from a previous gathering that was shared with everyone. Mouse Spirit had said, “I no longer want the cheese. I want to be free of the trap.” The wisdom is offered with no explanation. It is up to each individual to gain their own understanding.

Lessons can be learned but the understanding from what we learn leads to knowledge. The knowledge than gives us the natural laws to live by. The teaching walked with and around me for many days. As usual an understanding came in a quiet moment.

I interpret the baited trap Mouse Spirit speaks to as deception. Many Native American songs reference this. The songs tell us to; do it this way,secure our sacred pipes or we may be deceived. In simple terms, the sacred pipe symbolizes a connection to Creator for me. The traps are set when we disconnect from Creator. Through contemplative prayer we can re-establish and deepen that relationship. We begin to learn, understand, know and live spiritual truths. Within the unconscious of every human being is hidden spiritual truths. Given time and commitment they are revealed to you. Prayer is one method to attain them.

The bait is the powerful illusions of truth in this world that lure us into abandoning our connection to Creator and the spiritual truths that govern all life. At the present time, the illusion of truth is that we hate each other. When we act out from illusion (take the bait) great harm and suffering is created for all those concerned.

Love is the greatest power in the Universe. Not even death can conquer love. It is part of Mouse Spirit’s wisdom for me. The world is always trying to build a better mouse trap. Innovation has morphed into revolution. True change will happen when we learn to love those we do not love. An evolution of the soul. It’s not coming. It’s here.

A heart can only be deceived when it is separated from Creator. Hate trapped in the mind closes the heart; to Creator, to love. Hate is a mastermind of traps. It cannot be trusted. If you are unable to reconcile a belief in your mind with an authentic feeling in your heart, it is not truth. A

As it happened, the day Mouse Spirit’s wisdom unfolded, a mouse fell into the horses grain bin and was trapped. Mouse’s liquid black eyes told me to begin living the spiritual truth, to start small. With that Mouse was taken out to a far field to gather wild food or be food for the wild things. We may be on the cusp of a Universal soul evolution but it begins with yours. Start small.

Love is our truth.
The truth will set us free.

Help Heal Hurt

There is that saying…
Hurt People,
hurt People.

If so, do
healed People
heal People?

I ask,
How do we heal?

Ask for help.

Take help.
Help is useful if you use it.
Help is helpless if you don’t.
Help, hurt or heal.

Only you help—
help—
help you.

Act

Change starts in you.
Inaction stops change,
action drives change.
Choices choose the direction.
Help, hurt or heal.

I becoming change,
changes you—
you changing,
changes us.
The world is us.
Help, hurt or heal.

I ask,
How do I know I’m healed?

When you don’t want to hurt,
People…yourself…anything,
you enact changes that allow you to feel
but not become hurt.

We are all helpers,
here to heal hurts
from our center out in all directions.
Our actions help, hurt or heal the world.
Remember how to be a good relative.

Patch Ponder

It’s how I will begin every other day until the harvest ends in August, on my knees next to dew covered blueberry bushes, filling first my belly then a small bucket with berries. Its a humble prayerful posture. I seek the plump soft berries that hide among lush green leaves and bowed branches. I take only those ready to relinquish their attachment from tiny stiff stems. I always come to the patch with an attitude of gratitude. Anyone that helps pick has to be willing. No one is forced to pick because I want the bushes to feel nothing but appreciation for their gift. My movement in the patch is slow and easy. I know I will be returning many more times in the coming weeks. Great care is given to do no harm or hurt to the bushes that surrender their fruit.

When you pick blueberries there can be a large cluster but only a few will have color and of those few only one or two will be blue through to the stem. You can feel they’re ripeness by their willingness to release. I look too but each year I feel more and look less or my back yells at me. Blue to the stem are sweet. All other’s have a tang of sour.

Many of us are working on releasing negative experiences, thoughts and people. The blueberries reminded me this morning not to force this process. It’s OK to wait for the healing to be whole—ripe for the picking. You will be able to release AND relinquish attachment to the experience. There will be a willingness on your part. You will feel it and be Okay with whatever place the other(s) are in their healing in that shared experience. Only then can you move forward consistently. Healing can hide. Feel for it in a gentle way. You may have to return many more times.

Wish you all have ripe—sweet—healing!